


don't close your eyes

by babyweis



Category: Monsta X (Band)
Genre: Age Difference, Alternate Universe - Historical, Alternate Universe - War, Angst, Character Death, M/M, Prostitution, Sort Of, Violence, as in hoseok is around thirty and kihyun in his early twenties, but not based on a specific era or even country, but nothing graphic, general!hoseok, good heavens these tags are a mess, in chapter 2 but it's not kiho i promise, soldier!kihyun
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-23
Updated: 2018-12-06
Packaged: 2019-08-28 05:56:56
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,829
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16717697
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/babyweis/pseuds/babyweis
Summary: "Don't you die on me now, Kihyun," Hoseok hisses, "don't you dare."-Kihyun becomes a soldier, makes new friends and falls in love with the country's favored general. It's not a beautiful story, but nothing ever is in the endless war they're stuck in.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> me @ me: stop making all your fics about forbidden love stories  
> me: y'all hear sumn

Hoseok is dressed in an armor just like everyone else is, his black hair pushed away from his face and his hands held behind his back. A long, old scar runs down from his bottom lip to his jaw, another one on his neck, and his shoulders are wide, his clothes tight around his biceps. He stands in front of everyone with his chin up, looking at the row of men with an open, experimental expression.

Kihyun is wearing his armor for the first time. It's nothing big - covers his chest, elbows, thighs and knees - but it feels heavy, and his legs are tired from the long trip to the camp. The shirt and pants he wears underneath are loose, too big for his frame, and the sword is pressing uncomfortably against his arm. His hair hangs in front of his eyes, but he knows it would be disrespectful to lift his arm to brush it away.

He has already received several amused looks from the other men in the camp, has heard them snickering behind his back about how he's not going to last a day. Even now, he can feel them judging him, standing in between two older, taller men with scuffed armors.

When Hoseok's eyes land on him, he doesn't look judging. His lips don't curl into a mocking smile and he doesn't shake his head, doesn't mutter a comment about his thin arms to the other high-ranking soldier standing next to him. He doesn't look at him with pity, either.

If there's a word Kihyun would describe the look in his eyes, it would be _softness_. Just plain, pure softness, with nothing behind it and nothing following. And Kihyun is good with words. His father says he was raised by books instead of him.

"All of you look like good men," Hoseok says, his voice booming over the field they are standing on, the camp looming in the distance behind his back. "I hope to bring victory in these battles with all of you by my side. It's a great honor for me to lead you."

"It's a great honor to have you lead us, sir," a soldier speaks, and Hoseok smiles at that, a genuine, humble smile.

"You must be tired," he continues, "please, have something to eat and rest properly. You're dismissed for today."

The men around Kihyun crouch down in a bow, and he follows them, watching from under his fringe how Hoseok turns around and leaves, his cloak swinging with the motion. Even his back view is impressive.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
Kihyun is put into a tent with three other soldiers. Two of them don't even spare a glance at him, leaving the tent right away to have dinner. The third one remains. He's tall, but thin, almost as thin as Kihyun, and he looks like he could be around Kihyun's age, as well. He gets rid of his armor while standing right in the middle of the tent and casually tosses it to the ground, stretching his arms afterwards.

"That thing still feels heavy," he says, turning around to face Kihyun with a raised eyebrow. "Are you going to sit here the whole night dressed like this or are you going to relax?"

Kihyun frowns, looking down at his own armor and then back at the young man. "We're allowed to take it off now?" he asks, carefully.

"Obviously," the other replies with a roll of his eyes, "it's so uncomfortable to eat with it on. And general Lee doesn't really care, anyway."

Kihyun perks up at that. He gets up from where he's sitting on his mattress and starts getting rid of his armor while shooting the other a curious look, "Have you served under him before?"

"This is my third time."

"You must've been doing this for a long time, then."

"Five years. It's been my fate ever since my father died in the battlefield thirteen years ago."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be. He died doing what he loved."

Kihyun nods in understanding, leaves his armor on the floor and offers his hand at the man. "I'm Kihyun."

The other grabs his hand, his grip as firm as a soldier's should be, despite his appearence. "Hyungwon."

They draw their hands back and share a smile, and then Hyungwon nods towards the entrance of the tent. "I'm going to grab something to eat," he says, "do you want to go with me?"

"Sure," Kihyun answers, and follows him outside, down the path in between dozens of tents until they reach the biggest one that's being held as a canteen. It's already getting dark, and there are several torches and candles lit up inside.

"This is your first time serving, isn't it?" Hyungwon asks as they line up for the food.

"Yes," Kihyun admits, "my father has enough power to have pushed my enlistment back so I could finish my studies first."

"Studies, huh," Hyungwon says, "it seems our lives are really different."

"I suppose so."

They get their share of food - soup along with bread - and scamper around the wide tent until they find a quiet spot in one corner. On their way, Kihyun spots a few men who differ from the others - gracefully painted masks over their faces, dressed in clothes he's only ever seen women dressed in before. Kihyun might not be an experienced in battlefields and the life of a soldier, but he has read enough to know their role.

It's the role of the young men who refuse to serve in the war with swords. The role of shame - of an entertainer. They're made to dress up and keep company for the soldiers in the time of rest. To say it how it really is, for the frustrated soldiers, they're the replacements of women.

Kihyun knows they're looked down upon. He also knows it could've easily become his own role did his father have not enough money to pay off the years he spent reading instead of serving the country and the king in the continuous war. He's pretty sure he couldn't have been able to handle such fate, which is why he has a certain admiration towards them. They're risking their pride and name just to stand up for peace.

"When you said this is your fate," Kihyun speaks up when they're comfortably seated down, "did you mean you also intend on dying on the battlefield? Do you love this like your father did?"

"Altough there's a certain charm to being in the midst of the battle with a sword on your hand, I do not love the war," Hyungwon answers easily, as if he'd been expecting the question. "But I suppose I still intend on dying here. This is all I have, anyway."

"What about home? You don't want to start a family? Get married, have children?"

"No," Hyungwon says. Kihyun raises an eyebrow, but doesn't question him further. The brief answer seems to be his way of saying, _this is the end of this conversation._

It's then that one of the men dressed into delicate robes skids over to them, bare feet padding their way across the cold ground. He's tall, not as tall as Hyungwon but taller than Kihyun, and his hands are big, but his movements the most delicate of all as he sits down right next to Hyungwon as if he belonged there. Hyungwon barely reacts to his presence, scooping a spoonful of soup into his mouth as the man leans against his side, his long fingers caressing his hair, and Kihyun thinks, _oh_.

"Do you have a new friend?" the stranger asks, his voice muffled underneath the mask. Hyungwon looks at him and then at Kihyun, and says,

"Sort of. His name is Kihyun. He's new."

"Obviously he's new," the man says. His hands leave Hyungwon and he leans against the table instead, looking at Kihyun while slipping his mask off. He's beautiful, twinkling eyes with lips painted red. "Good evening, Kihyun."

"Good evening," Kihyun greets back, a little wary, which seems to amuse him. The light in his eyes grows bigger and his lips curl into a smile.

"You're very cute. No need to be scared of me. I'm very nice. Aren't I, Hyungwon?"

Hyungwon rolls his eyes in response and looks at Kihyun, nodding his head towards the pretty man, "This is Minhyuk," he says, "he's general Lee's brother."

Kihyun stops his spoon halfway in the air, his lips parting as he stares, taking in the new information. So Lee Hoseok - the young general whose name is highly respected all over their country - has a brother who has refused to serve in the war. A brother who acts as an entertainer for soldiers. A brother who, seemingly, has a _thing_ going on with a regular soldier - with another man.

Well, that's something he hasn't read of.

Minhyuk pushes Hyungwon gently with his elbow, raising an eyebrow, "Must you tell that to him?"

"He'll hear about that eventually, anyway," Hyungwon responds. Kihyun watches how he scoops up another spoonful of soup from his bowl and offers it to Minhyuk's lips, who leans forwards to take it to his mouth with ease, his protests long forgotten.

"Thank you," Minhyuk says, and then he covers his face with the mask again, getting up. "I'll see you both later."

"Later," Hyungwon repeats, and Minhyuk leaves them alone with a graceful wave of his hand, disappearing somewhere in the wide space of the tent.

"So that's why," Kihyun says, waiting for Hyungwon to look at him before continuing, "that's _what_ is keeping you in here."

Hyungwon doesn't respond to that at first, swirling the spoon in between his fingers and sighing. "Unfortunately," he says. "Since you read so much, you must know that while erotic attraction between two men is acceptable, romantic attraction is not."

"Yes, I know that," Kihyun hums, "I know that _very_ well."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

As expected, Kihyun loses every round of the sword fights he has to take against other soldiers. The armor is weighing him down and rubbing uncomfortably at his kneecaps through his clothes. He's sweating, his hair sticking to his skin, and he's pretty sure there's a bruise the size of his head forming in his back where one of his opponents kicked him. The sword is heavy, too.

He inhales deeply and plops down onto the ground next to Hyungwon. The latter seems exhausted as well, but not nearly as badly as Kihyun. His stamina is quite impressive - just like his ways of handling a sword. Kihyun had watched with slight envy how he'd beaten a man twice his size down to the ground in a matter of seconds.

"Here," Hyungwon mumbles, offering him a bottle of water. He takes it with gratefulness and takes a long sip before returning it, breathing heavily and wiping at his mouth with the back of his hand.

There's another match right in front of them. It takes quite long - minutes, at least five, until one of the soldiers manages to shove the sword off the other's hand. Kihyun picks at the grass growing underneath him as he watches the rest of the matches, his chest suddenly feeling even heavier than the armor.

There's going to be an actual battle for them in a matter of weeks, he'd heard. The enemy's army is bigger and well armed.

He doubts he'll make it back alive.

He should write to his family soon. He's stayed in the camp for three days, the trip took four days. It's most likely going to take even longer for his letter to arrive home.

"Yoo Kihyun," one of their trainers calls out. Kihyun scrambles up from the ground and bows at him hastily. "You're up against me."

Ignoring the snickering he hears from around them, he nods obediently and draws his sword out, rolling his shoulders back while stepping out. He glances over his shoulder at Hyungwon, and the man looks back at him with something that resembles a reassuring smile.

"Alright, now," the trainer says with a low voice, drawing his sword out as well. "I'm counting to three."

"Yes, sir," Kihyun says. He's already prepared to fail, prepared for the humiliation, and so he doesn't even have the time to waste on being embarrassed.

However, the man in front of him only manages to say one when there's a voice echoing over them, causing each of them to freeze in their place.

"Wait!"

Kihyun recognizes him right away. There's only one person in this camp, only one person _on this Earth_ with such a soft, melodious voice. Everyone else recognizes it as well, and the next second they're all going down to the ground, bowing down at their general.

"Now, I've told you that bowing like this isn't needed with me," Hoseok says lightly, urging everyone to get up with determined hand movements. They obey immediately, Kihyun's head dizzy from having to get down and then up so quickly with his heavy armor. "I just came to see how you're doing."

"Everything is good, sir," the trainer says. Kihyun watches, intrigued, how Hoseok perfectly arches his eyebrow at him.

"Kim," he says, elegantly striding past the said man and towards Kihyun, circling behind his back with a few quick steps. Kihyun tenses up, unwillingly. "Your job is to train our soldiers, correct?"

"Yes, sir."

"Then tell me," Hoseok continues, his voice suddenly coming very close to Kihyun's ear, his hand snaking from under his arm to grab at his sword, "why did you not correct this young man's posture and hold on the sword before starting the practice?"

Kihyun blinks. The man in front of him goes pale, staring right past Kihyun's shoulder where Hoseok is speaking, opening and closing his mouth repeatedly before actually speaking, "General, I believe the soldiers should learn from their mistakes."

"They don't know their mistakes before we point them out to them," Hoseok says. The trainer shuts his mouth at that. Kihyun stays unmoving, holding at his sword with one hand together with Hoseok. A shiver runs down his spine. "What's your name, soldier?"

"Kihyun," he says carefully, "Yoo Kihyun, sir."

"So how about this, Kihyun," Hoseok says, the name slipping out of his mouth as if he'd always known it, and Kihyun doesn't know what to think of that - or of the whole situation, for that matter. "We'll do this together. I'll be right here, behind you, and hold the sword together with you."

Kihyun swallows. He's not exactly sure what he's feeling so nervous for - of course, Hoseok is a well-known and respected soldier, but he thinks it's something more. He thinks it's been something more ever since he first saw Hoseok standing in front of him.

"General," the trainer speaks up, "I'm sure you don't-"

"I wasn't speaking to you," Hoseok interrupts. His voice still has no edge to it, no sharpness, still so soft and kind, despite his words. "Kihyun?"

"Whatever you say or do, I shall follow, sir," Kihyun tells him, the practiced, taught words slipping from the tip of his tongue to mask the nervousness and confusion he truly is feeling.

"Thank you," Hoseok tells him. Kihyun thinks he can hear him smiling. "Get a better grip of your sword. Here, like this. I'll guide you. The man who taught me to use the sword always told me fighting is like dancing. Have you danced before, Kihyun?"

"A few times, sir."

"That's more than enough," Hoseok tells him. His fingers press against Kihyun's hand as he adjusts his hold on the sword as well. "Kim, I think we can start."

"Yes, sir," the trainer says, taking a wary glance at the soldiers watching. Kihyun almost does the same, but stops himself. He doesn't want to know what they are thinking, or how they are looking at him. They must despise him for taking up the general's time.

The count to three starts again, and on the last number, Hoseok whispers to him, "To the left."

It takes Kihyun a second to figure out what direction left even is in anymore, and during that second Hoseok already moves, pulling him to the side as the trainer attacks. The sword is swung, and Kihyun tries following, even though Hoseok's movements are fast and much sharper than his voice.

"Down," Hoseok says, and this time, Kihyun is faster, slouching down without Hoseok having to pull at him just in time as the trainer's sword flashes above their heads. There's a hand on Kihyun's shoulder right after, and his mind falls blank, his grip on the sword nearly loosening as Hoseok lunges it forward, swatting at the trainer's armored abdomen with force and causing him to stumble backwards, eventually losing his balance and falling down.

It takes Kihyun a moment to come back to his senses, still kneeling down as Hoseok gets up behind him and steps to his sight, shooting a grin at the defeated trainer before offering his hand at Kihyun. He takes it, suddenly very aware of how dirty and sweaty his own palm is. The tips of his ears feel hot.

"Good job, soldier," Hoseok tells him once they're standing face-to-face, the trainer glowering at Kihyun over Hoseok's shoulder. Kihyun bows his head.

"I barely did anything, sir. It was all you."

"It was the both of us," Hoseok corrects him, giving him a look that says _no objections_ even when he's still smiling. "Together. After all, this is what this all is about. Unity."

Kihyun nods. He can feel everyone staring at them, and it doesn't really feel like he's united in here in any way, but he doesn't say that out loud. "Thank you, sir."

Hoseok's smile widens and he lifts his hand, patting Kihyun's shoulder. It feels like a familiar gesture, like Kihyun is more than one of the hundreds, thousands of soldiers Hoseok is and has been working with.

The sense of familiarity only grows stronger once Hoseok leans in and whispers, "Meet me in my residence today. Sunset," and Kihyun isn't sure what to think anymore.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
"Well, someone is daydreaming today," Minhyuk purrs as he joins Hyungwon and Kihyun on their table again, his hand brushing the back of Kihyun's neck before he sits down by Hyungwon's side. Kihyun frowns and leans against the table with his elbows.

"I'm not."

"You are," Minhyuk argues, as if he'd known Kihyun forever instead of meeting him briefly over the meals for the past few days. Probably runs in the family.

"Your brother is giving him special treatment," Hyungwon says bluntly. Kihyun's posture stiffens and he gives the man a dirty look.

"That's not true," he hisses, glancing at Minhyuk who's already looking back at him, the mask still on his face. "He was just teaching me, like a general should."

"Sure," Hyungwon says, "he was just basically pressed against your back and holding your hand. Minhyuk, you tell him. You know how your brother works."

"He was _not_ -"

"Hoseok doesn't really play familiar with a lot of people," Minhyuk hums, interrupting Kihyun as if he was never saying anything at all. "He could have taken a liking to you."

"A liking," Kihyun repeats. He can almost see the way Minhyuk is grinning at him behind his mask. " _Please_. There's no reason for him to do so."

"Well, like I've said, you _are_ pretty cute," Minhyuk says, leaning against Hyungwon's shoulder while intertwining their arms. "And small. And not a good fighter, I'm guessing. Hoseok has a soft heart, so he's probably taking you under his wing."

Kihyun thinks for a moment. "So basically he is pitying me."

"Pity is such a dirty word. I'd say he just wishes to protect you."

Kihyun scoffs, but doesn't say anything more. He probably should be more flattered, anyway, for Minhyuk to think Hoseok could have taken any kind of interest in him. Because Hoseok is their general, their leader, and highly respected. Because Hoseok is an intriguing person, and Kihyun is not.

But for what reason could Hoseok possibly want to meet him in his own residence?

"I must go now," Minhyuk says, brushing Hyungwon's jaw with his finger before getting up. However, before he's able to leave, Hyungwon's hand goes up to grab at the hem of his robes, stopping him. The two of them stare at each other for a while, and Kihyun fidgets on his place, feeling like he's invading something - witnessing something he shouldn't.

The two's staring contest lasts for a long minute, until Hyungwon's hand slips and Minhyuk turns around, walking away from them. Kihyun watches how the other soldier stares after him, his expression turning grim, and then follows his eyes to see Minhyuk perched on another soldier's lap.

"Hyungwon," Kihyun says with a soft sigh, "he's just doing his job."

"I know," Hyungwon replies, dropping his gaze to the table, "but sometimes I wish he would just serve as a soldier instead."

"Would you rather have him in the battlefield than in here in safety?" Kihyun asks, raising an eyebrow. Hyungwon laughs at that.

"Here in safety," he repeats. "Kihyun, for someone so wise, you really are so oblivious. Do you think people like him are living well?"

"What do you mean?"

"Why do you think he didn't take his mask off today?"

Kihyun's blood runs cold. Indeed, Minhyuk usually takes his mask off during their short chats, has done so yesterday and the day before that, but not even once during this day's meals. Hyungwon gives him a pointed look, running a hand through his hair before looking away again.

"He always thinks I won't notice," he whispers.

Kihyun doesn't know what to say to that.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Kihyun leaves the tent alone, Hyungwon already gone ahead a few minutes ago with a determined look on his face and a few coins squeezed in his fist. Kihyun didn't question him. He knows the requirements to meeting someone like Minhyuk in private.

What he doesn't know, though, are the requirements to meeting someone like Hoseok in private. He tries tidying himself up a little to look presentable and takes several long moments choosing between wearing his armor and not wearing it, until he remembers Hyungwon's words from their first meeting - "General Lee doesn't really care, anyway." - and ends up going without.

Hoseok's tent is hidden behind the canteen, under the shade of an old tree. There's a torch by the entrance, and Kihyun spends a while watching how the flames play with each other in the dusk until he musters up the courage to call out, "General Lee?"

He can hear some shuffling inside, and then the cloth in front of the entrance is swept to the side, Hoseok appearing with a bright smile on his face. The smile makes him look childlike, pure, and Kihyun finds it strange - how a soldier, a _general_ \- could have such a look.

"Ah! Kihyun, right? You're just in time. Come in, please."

"Yes, sir," Kihyun mutters, meekly making his way past Hoseok and inside the tent. It's different to the one he sleeps in - filled with things, an actual table with chairs and a wooden bookshelf, his mattress wide and accompanied with several pillows and blankets. He suppresses the urge to take a closer look at everything and turns around to face Hoseok again, clasping his hands behind his back, "For what reason did you wish to meet me?"

"To talk, mostly," Hoseok says, striding past Kihyun to a chest by his mattress. Kihyun raises an eyebrow and watches how he rummages through its insides, eventually pulling out a white, thin silk ribbon. "But first off, come here. Take a seat." He grabs a pillow and settles it down onto the ground in front of him, gesturing at it while looking at Kihyun.

Kihyun walks over and sits down onto the pillow, careful and slow, constantly glancing at Hoseok to see if he's doing anything wrong. The general seems pleased with everything, though, smiling as he grabs another pillow to sit on it himself.

"Your hair is quite long," Hoseok says then. It's an odd conversation starter, to Kihyun, but still nothing he hasn't heard before.

"Yes, sir. I like it this way."

"It really does suit you," Hoseok hums, and Kihyun tries to fight off the feeling of getting flustered by the compliment. "However, I was thinking it might be a problem while you are handling a sword. I figured you might not want to cut it shorter, so I came up with something else."

Kihyun blinks. "Oh?"

Hoseok nods, flashing him a smile and beckoning him over with his fingers, "Come closer."

Kihyun, once again, complies. He leaves the pillow and kneels down on the ground in front of Hoseok instead, his eyes casted downwards. The general lifts both his hands, and then he's running his fingers through Kihyun's hair, casual without any hesitation as he combs the black locks back, away from Kihyun's face. Kihyun's heart leaps, slamming at his ribcage with such power he fears Hoseok is going to hear it, and he squeezes both his hands into tight fists.

"This fits you, as well," Hoseok says, his voice just a tad bit too close to Kihyun's face as he leans closer, and Kihyun has to close his eyes and imagine they are not in this situation. It scares him. The feelings rising inside of him at the mere sound of Hoseok's soft voice scares him.

"Thank you, sir," he says. If Hoseok notices his voice wavering, he doesn't mention it. The general pulls away from him, his hands leaving Kihyun's hair. Kihyun opens his eyes to see him lift up a small mirror and holding it up at him,

"Don't thank me. Look!"

Kihyun looks.

His hair is pulled back, tied together with the silk ribbon Hoseok grabbed from the chest earlier. His first thought is that Hoseok lied to him, because it looks _awful_ , but just a few seconds after he realizes it's just because he's not used to seeing his own face like this, completely exposed, and it just looks _strange_.

He brings a hand up to his hair and pats it, tugs lightly at the ribbon, before sliding it down to his face. He brushes his cheekbone with his fingers, and then looks at Hoseok, who's already looking back at him.

If he lets down his guard a little later on as they're talking, he blames it on the way Hoseok treats him like a friend, smiling at him with his eyes made of thousands of stars.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this took longer than expected, but here it is!!!

Hoseok is a very confusing man, Kihyun thinks.

On some days, it feels like he can be read like an open book, one that holds no secret meanings or metaphors. On other days, it seems like he's hiding everything, like every word he speaks holds some kind of a secret meaning Kihyun has to figure out on his own.

Or maybe it's just all in Kihyun's head. Maybe his mind is trying to bring more meaning to the simple moments whenever the two of them are alone together, Hoseok teaching him how to properly use the sword. Maybe it's really all just about Hoseok feeling bad for him and wanting to protect him, and nothing else. Hoseok is a caring person, anyway. That's what Kihyun was quick to figure out about him.

However, there are moments that make it understandable that Kihyun starts doubting him. Brief, subtle moments, that one could miss by blinking an eye, but Kihyun is very observant when it comes to Hoseok and so he notices them all.

He notices it when Hoseok holds onto his shoulder for a tad bit longer than he should. He notices it when the tips of Hoseok's ears turn red when they are standing close to each other. He notices it when he is talking and Hoseok's gaze darts away from his eyes to the lower half of his face.

But he's not sure what he should do about it - what he should think about it. Because the truth is, that even if his ears turn red when Hoseok touches him too and even if he likes to watch Hoseok's lips too, Hoseok is still a respected general and he is just a soldier who probably will die in his first battle and the both of them are men.

He doesn't talk about it to Hyungwon, but he feels like the latter notices it all anyway. And if Hyungwon knows, that means Minhyuk knows, too. He's only glad that they don't even try to address that topic with him. He thinks talking might just make it all more complicated, and saying it out loud - that general Lee might be _interested in him_ \- would be ridiculous, anyway.

He should be just grateful for being able to spend so much time in Hoseok's presence.

"Sir?" he speaks up, drawing Hoseok's attention to him. They are sitting down on the grass, away from the camp, with their swords placed on the ground in between them. Kihyun is exhausted, breathing heavily, but Hoseok looks completely unaffected by their training. "Do you know when exactly the battle will happen?"

"It's difficult to say for sure," Hoseok says, leaning back until he's lying down on the grass, inhaling deeply. "They sent us a letter, yesterday. It's the second time they're asking us to back out. I suppose we need to be a little faster with the preparations."

"Do you think we'll win?"

"I do."

Kihyun takes a deep breath. "Do you think I'll be able to see it?"

Hoseok looks at him with his soft eyes, silent, and then brings his hand up to take a hold of Kihyun's arm and pull him down next to him. The grass is wet underneath his back. "Yes," Hoseok says, "I'll make sure of it."

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
The days pass by far too fast. Kihyun isn't used to that. He's used to hours dragging by as he sits inside surrounded by books, the daylight the longest time of the day. In here, the night feels like it lasts the longest. He has trouble falling asleep, and he tosses and turns on his thin mattress until one of the tentmates he doesn't really know snaps at him. Hyungwon never wakes up to his shuffling, dozing off right after his head hits a pillow and sleeping like the dead through the darkest hours. Sometimes, he doesn't even rise to the sound of the horn waking them up at dawn, and Kihyun fears he's actually dead, fiercely kicking him awake as their tentmates leave.

Tonight, it's already dark when Kihyun walks across the camp, all the lights turned down. Hoseok had insisted on having him visit his tent, to talk, to show him a map to talk about the battle. Kihyun doesn't think many average (or below average) soldiers are even allowed to see it, only hearing the strategy from the mouths of their generals and captains. He didn't comment on that.

"Hey, you."

Kihyun spins on the heels of his feet, his breath getting caught in his throat due to shock. Struggling to keep an unfazed expression on his face, he looks at the intruder - intruders, apparently. He recognizes all three of them. He's fought and lost to all of them during practices.

"Why are sneaking around in the middle of the night?" one of them speaks, raising an eyebrow at him. There's a bruise on his cheek, maybe the cause of practice. It amuses Kihyun, somehow. "We thought you were one of the hookers, honestly."

Oh, they think they're being clever.

Kihyun's face doesn't waver. He lifts his hand to wipe away a strand of hair escaping from the small bun and shrugs his shoulders. "What are you doing here, then?"

"Patrolling," the Bruised Face says. The two others stand to his sides, snickering. "We were ordered to that by general Lee. It's a surprise you don't know. You seem rather familiar with him these days."

Kihyun bites at the inside of his cheek. "Is that a problem?"

"Yes. No one understands why a weakling like you is receiving such treatment from him."

"He's simply training me."

One of the silent men laughs at that. "Is he training you to be a good hooker?"

Kihyun grits his teeth. It's not that he's not used to this, or that he finds their words offending - he's heard words similar to this so many times he's lost count - but the fact that they talk about _Hoseok_ in such a disrespecting manner strikes a nerve in him. "Maybe you should go back to patrolling," he says sharply, and then turns around and walks.

He hears them laughing, but he thinks, let them. _Let them_. If they're dumb enough to think they are real men, real _soldiers_ , by belittling their own comrade and general, then let them laugh. Kihyun isn't going to let such people get under his skin. 

He reaches his tent and enters quietly, passing by his sleeping tentmates to his own bed. He gets rid of most of his clothes, unties his hair and slips then underneath the covers. They're cool against his skin, a little cold, even, and he grimaces, shuffling around until he finds a comfortable position to wait for his bodyheat to warm up the sheets.

He thinks of Hoseok, and, unwillingly, of the words spit at him by the other soldiers just now. He wonders if they were just joking around, saying things to offend him, or if they really are suspecting something.

But then again, what is there to suspect? Despite the touches and looks that send Kihyun into thinking of forbidden things, there's nothing going on in between them. Hoseok is simply training him. _Isn't he?_

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
"Minhyuk isn't here," Kihyun says. He watches how Hyungwon's shoulders tense up, his grip on the mug tightening.

"Yeah," he says, not looking at Kihyun, "he isn't."

"Why?"

"I don't know."

Kihyun frowns, but doesn't say anything after that. He looks down at his plate, suddenly not feeling that hungry anymore, even if he was starving earlier during training. He takes a sip of water, but his mouth feels even more dry.

Hoseok is eating in the canteen today. He's sitting in the table furthest from Kihyun and Hyungwon, surrounded by other high-ranking soldiers, still wearing his armor. Kihyun looks at him, sees him laugh at something, but doesn't hear it. He wishes he could.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
"Why are you still a soldier?"

Hoseok looks at him, sliding his sword in its sheath. "What do you mean?"

"I mean," Kihyun inhales deeply and glances down at his own feet, suddenly a little hesitant, "you could have chosen to withdraw after receiving your medal, instead of becoming a general. Why didn't you?"

"Oh." Hoseok sits down to the ground, and gestures for him to do the same. Kihyun complies, relieved under the weight of the armor.

They sit in a silence for a while. Hoseok looks like he's deep in his thoughts, the concentration on his face similar to the one he has when training, and Kihyun doesn't urge him. He presses his palm against the ground, the grass tickling his skin.

"I think it's because it feels like some sort of a duty," Hoseok says then. "Not just in the way that I should serve my country, but it's more about the other soldiers. I don't agree with the war, Kihyun." He looks Kihyun in the eyes, and Kihyun's breath hitches. "The death, it _haunts_ me. I want to try and save as many men as I can. I... I want to watch over them. You."

Kihyun doesn't know what to say to that. It's an unexpected answer, but at the same time, it's just _so Hoseok_. It makes him feel warm, but at the same time, it pains him.

"That sounds heavy," he ends up saying.

"Heavy?"

"To care so much for so many, it sounds heavy."

Hoseok's lips curl into a small smile. It looks a tad bit sad, and Kihyun's heart twists. "Many others would say it's honorable or brave."

"Maybe it is. Regardless, it sounds heavy. You bear it all alone. I wouldn't be able to do that. Not many would."

Hoseok stares at him, and then drops his gaze down to his hands, turns them so his palms are up. His fingers twitch, and Kihyun gets a terrible urge to lean over and hold onto them, clasp Hoseok's hands into his. He wants to watch over Hoseok and try pay him back for the kindness he so openly gives to everyone else.

"Sir," he says quietly, and Hoseok looks back up at him.

"Please," he whispers, "could you just say Hoseok?"

Kihyun's heart clenches. "Yes," he says, "Hoseok."

Hoseok smiles at that. It's still small, but not really sad anymore, the pure softness gracing his features again, and Kihyun stares, stares as Hoseok moves closer to him until their knees are touching. He wants Hoseok even closer to him, and wants to whisper, let me watch over you, but he doesn't dare to.

He doesn't dare to, but then Hoseok takes his hands to his, gently runs his fingers on the spot where a scratch formed earlier that day when Kihyun was training and fell down. His touch feels like it could heal everything. Kihyun dares to lean a little closer, and doesn't pull back when Hoseok leans in to meet him half-way.

Their noses brush together, and Hoseok whispers, "thank you." Kihyun stops, but doesn't draw away.

"What for?"

"For caring for me."

It's then that Hoseok laces their fingers together and kisses him on the mouth, soft, careful. The world Kihyun used to know crumbles, and he holds tighter onto Hoseok's hands, so tight he can't tell the difference between their skins anymore. Hoseok doesn't pull away. He holds onto him just as tight, keeps kissing him until they're both running out of air.

Hoseok takes him to his tent again that night, draws the curtains on the entrance shut and blows at the candles until it's dark and they can barely see. Kihyun helps him remove his armor, drops his sword to the ground, and Hoseok helps him with his, takes a hold of the ribbon in his hair and pulls it off. 

"Kihyun," he whispers, pressing their foreheads together, "where have you been?"

"I'm here now," Kihyun whispers back, and Hoseok smiles. It's bright in the darkness, blinding, but Kihyun doesn't close his eyes or look away.

"I've wanted you since I first saw you."

"And I've wanted you."

They fall back onto the soft cushions of Hoseok's bed, Kihyun's back pressed against the sheets and Hoseok's chest against his, and they kiss until Kihyun's head is spinning and he forgets about everything else around them.

He returns to his own tent barely an hour before sunrise, and nearly collapses when they run their morning laps around the camp, but Hoseok smiles at him when they pass each other and it's all worth it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

"It's happening tomorrow," Hoseok says. He has his arm around Kihyun's waist, his palm lying on the small of his back as they lie together on his bed again the next day. Kihyun presses his cheek against Hoseok's chest and listens as his heart beats.

"What is?"

"The battle."

Perhaps it should scare Kihyun, but with Hoseok's arm around him like that, he could never be afraid of anything.

"We will win," he says.

"We will," Hoseok promises. "It will all be okay."

Kihyun doesn't know if he's reassuring Kihyun or himself, but he hums nonetheless, slips his hand across the sheets until he finds Hoseok's hand there and holds onto it.

He thinks of the two of them, of hiding, of the looks they shared and still share in front of everyone else, and he thinks of the other soldiers and of Hyungwon and Minhyuk.

"It will all be okay," he repeats. Hoseok squeezes his hand.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
The armor feels even heavier than usual that day. Kihyun's heart rams against his chest and his hands are clammy as he holds onto the handle of his sword. It's hidden in its sheath, hidden, hanging on his belt, but he's suddenly more aware of it than ever.

The other soldiers are a blur around him, all of them getting ready, patting each other on the back, sharing jokes to lighten the mood. Hoseok is standing in the side, away from the crowd, holding the reigns of his horse and watching them. _Watching over them_.

He's like a guardian angel, Kihyun thinks. He wonders if Hoseok has one on his own, hopes he does. Prays.

"I should have gotten my sword sharpened," Hyungwon says. He's sitting on a trunk next to Kihyun, gently pressing his thumb against the blade of his sword. He doesn't seem nervous. Kihyun doesn't dare to ask him if he's really not or if he is just pretending.

"You'll beat anyone even with a dull sword," Kihyun says, and Hyungwon laughs, getting up and slipping his sword in its sheath.

"Sure I will," he says, "they won't even know what hit them."

"Exactly."

_"Hyungwon!"_

They both turn around, facing the camp. Minhyuk is scrambling up the hill, dressed in casual clothes instead of the silk robes he wears in meals, his mask gone and hair disheveled. He runs straight into Hyungwon's arms, nearly knocking him down to the ground. Kihyun catches some of the other soldiers staring, and he shifts his weight from one foot to other, staring back at them until they notice his gaze and turn back to their own business.

He watches how the two slowly untangle their bodies, and it's only then that Minhyuk seems to notice him, flashing him a smile that sort of reminds him of Hoseok.

"Kihyun," he says, "you two are going to take care of each other, aren't you?"

"Of course," Kihyun promises, "don't worry."

"I'm not worrying," Minhyuk says, but his tone and face say otherwise. He grasps at Hyungwon's shoulder, and Hyungwon smiles, placing his hand on top of his.

"You are," he says, "but you heard Kihyun. We'll be fine."

Minhyuk shrugs his shoulders, and then the sound of the horn booms across the hill, demanding for their attention. Kihyun turns his head to see Hoseok and some other soldiers on the backs of their horses, someone yelling out orders.

"We have to go now," Hyungwon says. He wraps an arm around Minhyuk and pulls him closer, easy, as if he'd done it hundreds of times before. Kihyun stands to the side and watches them whisper at each other, and wishes he still had the time to talk to Hoseok before the battle, but he knows he mostly likely doesn't.

He'd already spoken with Hoseok last night, anyway. They'd lain awake together, and made promises with hushed voices, grasped at each other's hands with Kihyun's chest blooming with an emotion he was too afraid to name.

He only knows that if this is the end for him - if he's to leave, then he's to leave thinking of Hoseok.

Hyungwon lets go of Minhyuk, tells him, "You won't even notice we were gone, stop looking like that." Minhyuk scoffs at him, hits his chest weakly, and he laughs before turning to Kihyun. They walk up to their general in silence, lining up with the other soldiers.

Hoseok looks strong, confident - they're several metres away from him, but Kihyun can still see it, sense it, as he fiddles with the handle of his sword. He thinks back to when he first saw Hoseok, standing in front of all of them, so good and kind, and somehow he can't believe that this man - the one who shyly danced around him and then, held him so tightly but gently last night - is the one to lead them to the war.

But he will follow. Hoseok might be leading him to his death, but he will follow.

"I know all of you are brave and strong," Hoseok finally speaks. Everyone else goes dead silent. The scar on his jaw seems to glimmer in the daylight. "I know I'm proud to stand in here with you today. What I hope you know is, I will stand in here with you until the end and fight this battle together with you. Don't be afraid. Be proud, just as proud as I am of each one of you."

There's a roar of _yes sir_ , and ringing in Kihyun's ears. Hoseok meets his eyes over the crowd of soldiers, smiles so bright it makes him forget where they are going, and then turns his horse and starts riding down the road. They all follow.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
The enemy's army is enormous, spread over the edge of a field. Kihyun swallows down his fear, stares at Hoseok's broad shoulders and raven hair as he calmly leads them down another hill towards the enemy, and then lifts his hand to stop his soldiers. Someone else rides up to him, exchanges a few words, and then directs his horse to the middle of the field to meet one of the enemy's soldiers.

"They're debating about withdrawal," Hyungwon mumbles next to him, "it's just a formality. No one ever withdraws."

Kihyun nods hastily, grasps at the handle of his sword while staring at the redness of Hoseok's cloak. "Hey, Hyungwon?"

"Yes?"

"Thank you."

Their eyes meet, and Hyungwon gives him a lazy grin. "Save that for later, Yoo."

Kihyun doesn't respond to him. He has no time to, because the sound of the horn breaks the silence over the field again, and then the crowd around them is moving.

So this is it, he thinks, it's all happening now. He wonders for a brief moment if his family already received his letter.

The sound of hundreds of swords clashing is something he could have not _imagined_. His heart stops for a moment, and when it starts again, it's beating so fast he's sure only his armor is keeping it in place. He draws out his sword and follows his people, almost blindly swats forward whenever he sees someone wearing the colours of the enemy.

He loses Hyungwon in the crowd in the blink of an eye, but every now and then, he can see a flash of Hoseok's cloak somewhere, still on the horseback, and it's enough to keep him sane and remind him that he's not here to lose, to _die_. He's here to survive. He has to do that for Hoseok, if not for anyone else.

 _The death, it haunts me,_ he hears Hoseok's words at the back of his head. _I want to save as many men as I can. I want to watch over them. You._

He stumbles over someone's legs. It's one of their own. He hastily checks for a pulse on his wrist, and scrambles back to his feet as he finds none, tears stinging in the corners of his eyes and his head pounding. An enemy appears in front of him, and he shouts, his lungs burning as he attacks. Another one. And another one. He runs into one of their soldiers by accident, and they nearly stab each other before taking a proper look.

There are more soldiers down on the ground. Some are the enemy's, some are their own. Kihyun moves in a daze, his legs shaking, holding onto his sword so tightly his fists turn white. His mouth is dry and his eyes are wet and his lungs are on fire, and he spins around to look for Hoseok, to even catch a small glimpse of him.

He gets that, sees Hoseok still up on his horse's back, kicking down at an enemy's face. But that's also all he gets, because suddenly there's a sharp _sting_ at the back of his head. He gasps, drops his sword to ground in shock, and swirls around just in time to see the flash of an enemy's sword.

Something crashes onto him, and he goes down to the ground, hitting his head and making the pain even worse. He groans, blinking, his eyesight momentarily gone. He still hears the shouting, the swords clashing, but it's all a blur, white noise somewhere in another dimension.

When his eyesight returns, he sees Hyungwon.

At first, it confuses him. He stares up at him, and Hyungwon stares back, only that there's something _wrong_ with him. Kihyun can't pinpoint what until Hyungwon coughs and it sends redness dripping down from his mouth and on Kihyun's face.

 _Oh, no,_ Kihyun thinks. His eyes glance down, at the space in between their bodies, and he sees a destructed armor and a blade.

"Oh, _no_ ," he chokes out loud, struggling to breathe as the realization dawns on him. "Good _god_ , no-"

"Kihyun," Hyungwon interrupts him, slurry and choked at the same time. "Can you- hey, can you do something- something for me? Maybe?"

Kihyun struggles to breathe. "No," he tries to say, "no, _wait_ -"

"Minhyuk," Hyungwon continues, uncaring for Kihyun's panicked words, "tell him. That I love him. Tell him."

"Hyungwon-"

"Hell, Kihyun, will you _tell him?"_

"Yes," Kihyun chokes out. Hyungwon breathes out, nods at him, whispers,

"Thank you."

Then he collapses. His entire body crashes down on Kihyun, and it _hurts_ , not as much physically as it does mentally, emotionally, and Kihyun tries to scream but he _can't_. The feelings bottle up inside of him, and he hyperventilates, almost unconsciously grabbing at Hyungwon's arms while trying to make out words, but all he manages is making incoherent, wailing sounds.

He doesn't realize that the field around him has gone silent, until there are people gathering around him. They grab at Hyungwon and take him away even as Kihyun tries resisting, his fingers digging in the other man's arms through his clothes. He's left gasping for air, and someone touches his arms, his chest, and then his head.

"A headwound," a voice says, "he's in shock."

Kihyun somehow recognizes them as their soldiers. His breath is still shallow, and his entire body is shaking, and he wants to tell them to leave him alone and check on Hyungwon instead, but he can't find it in himself to form any words.

"Can we move him?"

"Yes. His neck seems fine. Just be careful."

"Hey, here! Bring over stretchers!"

"Kihyun?"

"General Lee-"

Kihyun gasps as Hoseok comes to his sight, kneeling down next to him. There's blood on his forehead, his lower lip split, and he seems almost panicked, grabbing at the sides of Kihyun's face with both hands.

"What's wrong with him?"

"A head injury, sir. We're not sure how serious it is. He appears to be in shock, too."

"In shock," Hoseok repeats. He moves his hands, gently lifts Kihyun's head up from the ground and holds at the back of his neck with his other hand. "There's a lot of blood."

"They're bringing stretchers over right now, sir."

"Good. Hey, Kihyun? Can you hear me?"

Kihyun tries swallowing, but his mouth and throat are too dry. He can't speak, either. He tries to nod, but it sends a wave of pain to his head and down his spine, his eyelids gradually falling shut.

"No," he hears Hoseok's voice again. " _No_. Don't you die on me now, Kihyun," he hisses, "don't you dare."

 _I won't_ , Kihyun wants to say, but he's simply too exhausted. He blinks up at Hoseok's injured, beautiful face, and then slips away from consciousness.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

When Kihyun opens his eyes, he's met with the dirty white fabric of a tent somewhere above him. It's bright, and the light comes from the outside, which can only mean it's still daylight, maybe evening.

"Kihyun?"

He turns his head and meets Hoseok's eyes. The general inhales sharply, his breath hitching as he grasps at Kihyun's hand with both of his own.

"Kihyun," he repeats, "you are awake? You- is everything okay? Are you in pain?"

Kihyun blinks. His hand twitches in Hoseok's hold. His throat is still dry and his chest feels empty, his head pounding a little, but he whispers, "I'm fine."

Hoseok looks both relieved and sceptical. His hair is still disheveled and blood on his forehead, his lip split and angry red. Only his armor is gone. _Has he not taken care of himself while waiting for Kihyun to wake?_ "Are you sure?"

"Yes," Kihyun says. The brightness in the tent suddenly feels too much for his eyes, and he has to close them for a second, inhaling and exhaling deeply.

Then it hits him.

"Hyungwon," he croaks out, opening his eyes, "Hoseok, where- is he..."

Hoseok's face visibly saddens, and Kihyun's heart breaks. "I'm sorry," he whispers, "Kihyun, I'm sorry. We couldn't save him."

Kihyun doesn't know how to react. He lies there, his hand in Hoseok's, breathes the air that smells like blood and herbs and he wants to cry, but he isn't able to. Hyungwon is gone. He left. He left, _protecting Kihyun._ He's gone because of Kihyun.

The curtain on the tent's entrance is shoved to the side and left open. Minhyuk walks in. He's holding a shirt dirtied with blood.

"Minhyuk?" Hoseok speaks up. Minhyuk doesn't react. He sits down to the ground next to Kihyun, opposite side from his brother, his fingers twisting so tightly on the fabric of the shirt it looks painful. Kihyun can't bear to look at him, but he also can't look away.

"I'm sorry," he whispers.

"Don't," Minhyuk says. It's sharp, but not angry. Just determined, stubborn. It's like he's trying to hold himself together.

Kihyun turns his head to look at Hoseok again, the latter removing his gaze from his brother to look back at him. He looks confused, and Kihyun realizes that he probably never knew.

He looks at Minhyuk again.

"He told me to-" he stops, shutting his eyes tightly as a wave of tears threatens to wash over him. He tugs at the hem of Minhyuk's shirt with his free hand, and continues, "to tell you that he loves you."

Minhyuk squeezes the shirt to his chest, crouches down until his forehead is pressed against Kihyun's mattress, and then he cries, curling into himself.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
Kihyun is given a holiday of two months. He struggles leaving, stays the last night wholly in Hoseok's tent, not caring if someone realizes or suspects something. He kisses Hoseok goodbye before he leaves and promises he will come back.

He doesn't go home straight away. Instead, he takes Minhyuk with him, and they stop at Hyungwon's hometown. There's a funeral. It's fairly big, with Hyungwon's mother and four younger siblings along with men who used to serve with his father, and their families. Kihyun and Minhyuk don't introduce themselves to anyone. They watch from the side, with Minhyuk grasping at Kihyun's hand, drawing blood with his long fingernails.

"I miss him, Kihyun," he whispers.

They part their ways the next day, but Kihyun wakes up to nightmares every night for weeks. He doesn't talk about it to his family. They're overjoyed to have him back, even if it's for a little while. They say they are proud of him.

Kihyun thinks of writing to Hoseok while he's gone. He starts several letters, but in the end, he crumbles them all up and burns them in the house's fireplace. His bed is cold, and so is his entire room. Sometimes, even when his nightmares have stopped, he wakes up expecting to have Hoseok's warmth pressed against him or to see Hyungwon's sleeping form at the other side of the room. He cries until he gets sick of it.

"You are a hero," his younger brother, turned eight years old just a few days ago, tells him with his eyes shining. "I want to be like that, too."

Kihyun doesn't know what to say at that, so he just laughs. His father pats his back and his mother cuts him another slice of steak.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
Hoseok is waiting for him. He slides down from his horse's back as soon as he sees Kihyun, opens his arms and lets Kihyun run into them. They kiss, open in the field, lace their fingers together. There are no people watching, but even if they were, Kihyun wouldn't care. He breathes in Hoseok's scent and presses against the warmth of his body.

"I missed you," he says. "I won't leave ever again."

"You'll be free in a year, Kihyun," Hoseok tells him, but doesn't let go of him. "You don't want to stay as a soldier forever, do you?"

"I want to stay with you," Kihyun says. "If it means to stay as a soldier, I will do that."

"Don't throw your life away for me."

"That's not what I am doing."

Hoseok falls silent at that. He presses a kiss on Kihyun's temple and slowly pulls away from him. They walk back to the camp in silence, the only sound their footsteps and Hoseok's stallion huffing as it walks beside them.

"Is Minhyuk here?" Kihyun asks once they reach the camp. Hoseok nods.

"He has to stay for two more years."

"When you said you want to watch over us, did you mean him too?"

"Yes," Hoseok admits. They stop. He lets go of the reigns and lets the stallion freely slaunter around them. "I didn't do well, with that. I didn't even know..."

"It's not your fault," Kihyun whispers.

"It's not your fault, either," Hoseok tells him. Kihyun's heart clenches and he looks away. Two soldiers pass by them, bow hastily at Hoseok. They are new, Kihyun hasn't seen them before.

"I should go," Kihyun says, "to my tent."

"Of course," Hoseok answers. They don't look at each other as Kihyun walks away.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

  
Kihyun is dressed in an armor just like everyone else is. His hair is tied into a bun with a white ribbon, and he's holding the reigns of a black mare. His red cloak rests on his shoulders, hot underneath the July sun. There's a lot of noise in the crowd in front of him, but it all quiets down as he lifts his hand.

"Be focused," he says, "this is an important day. I know you know this, and I know you'll do well. Our country has placed all its trust on you, on us, and it might feel heavy, but we won't let them down. We will win. Do you understand?"

"Yes, sir!" the crowd echoes. Kihyun smiles and throws himself on the back of his mare, waving his hand at the soldiers,

"So, let's go."

His mare steps forward, and everyone follows. There's clacking from his left, but he doesn't react to that, a white stallion stepping to his side from the forest.

"That was an excellent speech, general Yoo."

"Why, thank you, general Lee," Kihyun grins, "I learned from the best."

Hoseok smiles. It's bright, blinding, but Kihyun doesn't close his eyes or look away.

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> (i'm sorry)

**Author's Note:**

> i was going to make this into an oneshot but then i realized i'll never be able to finish it today and i'm already late for kihyun's birthday lmAo i'll try to post the second part soon


End file.
